


Class Difference

by wisia



Series: Class Differences [2]
Category: DCU
Genre: Class Differences, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 08:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisia/pseuds/wisia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kon is uncomfortable with being a Wayne, well a potential Wayne. It's just not something he's used to. EDIT: the original fic that spawned the DCU Big Bang one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Class Difference

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write something that deals with Kon's adjustment to being a Wayne. I can't help but think that Kon would have trouble trying to understand the high society world Tim lives in and trying to act the part. It's easier for Tim to enter Kon's world than it is for Kon to enter Tim's in terms of class.
> 
> One day, I want to go back and writer something longer that will tackle all the issues. For now, this is just something short/test piece. Enjoy.

        

                Kon nervously patted the tie he wore, fingers smoothing the fabric out as he stood in front of the mirror. He frowned at the wrinkles that still remained. It was as if his super strength couldn't be contained, and now the fabric was practically bent out of shape. Kon nudged his TTK into the weave, trying to catch each thread that was crinkled wrong. He really wasn't panicking. He wasn't, and oh shit, he was. He tore the tie.

                Because the Kon in the mirror wasn't anyone Kon recognized. His hair was slickly gelled, and he wore a really, and he did mean really, expensive Armani suit. Kon tried to take a deep breath, but only succeeded on choking on attempted deep breath. Maybe, he thought ruefully, he shouldn't look at his unwanted reflection. It was entirely out of his character. Kon wanted his leather jacket, the old one that he probably didn't fit anymore. He wanted his red plaid shirt that Tim laughed at but ultimately secretly adored. He wanted not to go to this stupid party thing.

                Kon couldn't. Wasn't that funny? Kon couldn't, and he was the poster boy of rebellion. Kon was supposed to be Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up. But Kon fell in love, and he fell in love with a hell of a man. Well, he also died and things happened, so he had to grow up...but the important thing was he fell in love with Tim! And Tim wasn't just his Robin, Tim was Tim Drake -- Tim Wayne and that was...

                He yanked the ruined tie off angrily.

                "Gee, what did that tie ever do to you?" Tim's voice sounded behind him, amused. Kon blushed and chucked the tattered tie at him.

                "It was choking me," Kon answered. It wasn't Tim's fault that he was rich and famous. Kon had to deal, especially if he was going to marry the man.

                "Kon," and Tim's sigh was both fond and exasperated. "Come here."

                Tim pressed a gentle kiss to Kon's cheek. Then, he reached into his pocket and took out a nice blue color tie.

                "This one matches your eyes," Tim said, slinging it around Kon's neck. He easily knotted it in a complicated way that was chic and fashionable.

                "Thank you," Kon said, hands sliding up to catch Tim's before they slipped away from Kon's tie. He held Tim's hands firmly and leaned forward till his forehead touched Tim's.

                "This is going to be hard," Kon admitted. He was not ready for this even though he thought he was. He needed to adjust to being _Tim Wayne's_ boyfriend.

                "It's only for a few hours," Tim replied, stepping closer till his body was pressed against Kon's. Kon slid one hand down to Tim's lower back, encouraging the proximity till they could have been glued together forever.

                "How about we skip?" Kon asked, watching Tim's eyes unfocused slightly. "I'm sure we can find something to do."

                "That," Tim breathed, "would be--"

                "Hurry up!" Dick called through the door, making them jump apart. Tim's cheeks were pink, and Kon mourned the loss of him in his arms.

                "Yeah," Tim replied, raising his voice slightly. "We're coming."

                He smiled at Kon.

                 "I know what I'm looking forward to after this," and he sashayed out of the room. Kon simultaneously groaned and cursed Dick. He really didn't want to go...

               And Kon found that sentiment to be the same throughout most of the event. He plastered a large smile on his face, trying to charm all the old farts that wanted to stare at who exactly Tim Wayne picked for a fiancé.

                "You're looking a little dead," Clark said, pulling him to the side.

                "Thanks," Kon muttered. He tried to be grateful because Clark saved him from having to speak to that woman with the grey bob. She looked kind of nasty, eyes predatory and all.

                "Hm," Clark hummed and handed him a glass of champagne. Kon eyed it in disdain. He rather have a beer.

                "Just take a sip," Clark said, noticing. He was more at ease, mingling with everyone. Kon watched as Clark nodded and returned a smile to nearly everyone who passed by and caught Clark's eyes.

                "Yeah," and Kon took a quick swallow. It was fruity and okay but not to his taste. Then, "how do deal with it?"

                "Deal with what?"

                Kon gestured to the room where all these people in fancy clothes were, dripping with money and condescension.

                "That. I mean, I know marrying Tim means this life too...but I don't think I'm prepared for it. It's so stuffy and just looking at this people makes me get buckets of--I'm getting shivers."

                Clark laughed lightly. "You get used to it."

                Kon glared at Clark. That wasn't even remotely helpful.

                "Really, you do," Clark continued. "It's just something you have to deal with."

                "Don't I know it," Kon sighed. He threw back the rest of his champagne, wishing he could get drunk. "I'm going to find Tim."

                And he deposited the glass on the tray of a passing waiter, feet moving in a beeline toward Tim. Tim was easily the center of attention in that left corner of the room. Kon watched with a little envy at how smoothly Tim spoke, and it was actually a little scary. This wasn't Kon's boyfriend, the one he loved.

                "Kon!" Tim said delightedly, tugging Kon into the circle. He pressed a kiss to Kon's cheek, entwining his arm into Kon's.

                "This is Conner," Tim beamed proudly. "My fiancé."

                Kon smiled broadly at that. It always sounded good to hear Tim say it.

                "Hello," Kon said and wondered if he should wave his hand at them, but that would be totally awkward and weird. He put his hand down, aborting the motion as a woman stepped closer. She was familiar, but Kon couldn't really pin it.

                "I'm Vicki Vale," the woman introduced herself. "So, you have known him for a long time?"

                "Er, well, I..." Kon looked at Tim. Tim stroked Kon's arm in reassurance. "You could say that. My cousin, Clark Kent, knows Bruce. That's how we met."

                "How lovely," Vicki said, and her smile seemed more like a sneer.

                "It is," Tim said, butting in. "He's the sweetest. I couldn't believe it! Did you know he once drove eight hours to see me? Just because he didn't want to miss our anniversary because I had a meeting?"

                Kon could feel Tim's grip tighten, and it belatedly popped into his head who this woman was with her violent red hair. She was a reporter.

               "That is sweet," another lady said. She swatted the man next to her. "Why don't you ever do things like that for me, George?"

                A tiny round of chuckles swept through the group.

                "Where did you go to school?" Vicki asked as soon as it died down. "Tim hasn't told us very much about you."

                "No, he hasn't," George said. "Did you go to MIT? Harvard?"

                "I went to Smallsville," Kon answered.

                "That's a college? I've never heard of it."

                Kon's cheeks burned slightly. "Uh, no. I didn't go to college. Smallsville is in Kansas."

                "Oh," Vicki said, and there was a wicked glint to her eyes. "You didn't go to college."

                "No," Kon answered. "I--"

                 He refrained from saying something rude. He was about to, but he realized that he couldn't make a scene.

                "I only came to, uh, borrow Tim for a bit." Kon tried to smile, but it came out forced and odd. "I'll bring him back. Ex-excuse us."

                He subtly yanked Tim away from the circle. It wasn't as subtle as he thought because Tim stepped on his foot the moment they made it to the balcony.

                "Kon!"

                "Sorry," Kon mumbled. "She was..."

                Tim sighed. "I know. But you're going to be speaking to people like her more often. How is this any different from when you're Superboy?"

                "It just is," Kon said. "I mean...when I'm Superboy, I'm _Superboy_. Here? I'm just Conner, and he doesn't really have anything."

                "I'm sorry," Tim said after a long pause. "I know you aren't comfortable with this. I--"

                Tim rubbed the back of his neck. He looked a little more flappable compared to early.

                "Don't," Kon said. "I knew what I was signing up for when I asked you to marry me. I just...I didn't think it would be like this."

                He held out his arms, and Tim stepped into them, arms going around Kon's neck. Kon wrapped his arms tightly around Tim's waist, inhaling Tim's scent.

                "I didn't think it would be like this either," Tim said softly. "I wasn't always like this."

                "Hm," Kon said, eyes slipping closed as Tim played with his hair, messing up the gel and arrangement.

                "Maybe, a crash course?" Tim wondered. "I should have given you that. I'm sorry I forget."

                "'ish okay," Kon mumbled. "I can do this."

                "I know you can," Tim replied. "How about we suffer another hour and we can call it a night?"

                "Sounds good," Kon said. "But--"

                A hand slid low and gripped Tim's ass. "I don't think I want to call it a night just yet."

                "Okay," Tim gasped. "Definitely okay. Make it thirty minutes instead of an hour."


End file.
